


Two Cousins

by Missy



Category: Army of Darkness (1992), Evil Dead (Movies), Evil Dead - All Media Types, Galavant (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ash and Sheila encounter even more trouble when the kingdom breaks camp and heads to the peaceful land of Valencia for the summer.</p><p>Or at least it seems peaceful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is pre-canonical for Galavant and post-canonical for AOD.

To pack up a castle takes a great amount of effort. Sheila tells Ash that it’s about the organization; he just thinks it’s boring, the clacking of the women’s tongues and the flurry of caskets and people being loaded into wagons. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he pouts. “I did it, I tell ya! I fixed it!”

“And thou hast,” Sheila pointed out shrewdly. “But it is always good to travel to the highlands in such beastly weather.” 

He glowered, kicked at the ground, muttered a curse about the Wiseman’s talents under his breath. That’s right, it was his fault! How was Ash to know it’d take a day to make the potion that would knock him out for a couple hundred years? Now the former Promised One was stuck in awkwardville, watching Sheila and Arthur strut around the palace and make all the choices. The balance of power would never entirely shift thanks to his deeds of badassery, but waiting for something to happen was boring.

While Ash was self-distracted with misery, a freckle-faced page brought about his horse and then helped him mount it. He brought the horse around to Sheila’s side as they trotted over the drawbridge.

“So what’s the name of this berg we’re gonna shack up in again?”

“Valencia,” Sheila said, flicking her reigns. “The home kingdom of my cousin Isabella. It’s in a lovely valley

“How many miles is it?”

“What is a mile?”

Ash rolled his eyes. “How long’s the ride?”

“Oh, roughly a sunfall,” she said lightly. “Quite less than a fortnight.”

“Yeah, great.” He muttered something under his breath about his swollen ass, which drove a laugh from the tiring maid mounted behind Sheila.

“Cheer thyself milord,” she said gaily. “Twil not be such a hardship,” she said.

“Right,” he muttered, but stared blankly ahead at the dirt road that stretched on for miles. His ears stayed trained to the unseeable in the deep dark woods as they traversed northward and toward the peaceful respite that Valencia would hopefully bring.

***

Isabella occupied the window of her top floor suite, watching the long road that led out of her home castle. Today would be the day her cousin finally arrived, and she wanted nothing to stand between her and the greeting party. 

She barely heard her mother’s approach. “Don’t press your face so close to the glass,” she scolded. “You’ll leave a noseprint.”

“The window could use a good noseprinting,” replied Isabella to her mother. “When did Arthur say he’d be coming?” 

“In a fortnight. That’s southerland talk for a day. Could be here any minute,” said the queen. “You oughtta have something that’ll stick to your ribs.”

“When Arthur will probably bring a brace of beef?” she snorted. “Unlikely.” She settled down with a sigh. “Do you think Sheila will be the same?’

“Dearie, you haven’t seen her since you were youths tucking frogs in your cousin’s pocket.” The queen fussed over Isabella’s hair, then squared her shoulders. “She’s bound to be a different person now.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. You’ve heard about the monsters that attack Kandar…”

“…Oh pish-tosh,” the queen said. “Those rumors were started by a bunch of old biddies. I’m sure Sheila’s just rushed up here to show off her new fiancé.” 

“Yes,” said Isabella. “I suppose. Mother – what sort of name is Ash?”

The queen gave her daughter an indulgent smile. “A normal one.” In the distance a trumpet sounded. “There she is! Get a move on!”

And Isabella – misgivings in tow – fell into step behind her mother.

*** 

The riding party was a bit bedraggled as they road over the pale violet mountains separating the castle from the hills surrounding them. Isabella had barely reached the courtyard when she noted the exhaustion in the people’s faces. Her father rushed forward to receive Arthur and she immediately rushed to a dismounting Sheila.

“How are you?” burbled Isabella. “I’ve been so worried about your journey – did you manage to rest on the trail?”

“It has been a long day, cousin,” Sheila confessed. “In truth, all I yearn for is a long slumber and a hot bath.”

“We have both inside,” said Isabella. She then noticed the tall, dark-haired man hovering over Sheila, and the proprietary hand he kept on her shoulder. Isabella drew Sheila closer and whispered in her ear, “And who in the world is that man?”

“He,” Sheila said – as if she were entirely afraid to admit it to loudly, “is our savior. But do not say so too loudly,” she rolled her eyes, and Ash grimace and let go of her shoulder.

The implied was boggle-worthy to Isabella. Sheila was so straight-laced and charitable; she had a temper like a vaulkyrie but was somehow unafraid to give of herself in almost incalculable amounts. “Does Gwynne still make cinnamon tea?” Sheila wondered. “I’d love a rusk bun and a great heap of butter to go with it all.”

Isabella nodded. “Best in the land.” She drew a protective arm around Sheila’s shoulders and pulled the girl away. “We’ll have a little spot while the men are fed.”

“Well met,” said Arthur, clasping the king’s shoulder. “To the alehouse!” he said, collaring Ash and pulling him away.

“I bet things have been interesting since I saw you last,” Sheila said.

“Rather so,” said Isabella. “But I sense they’ve been more interesting for you.”

“Well,” Sheila said, swinging into the unheard rhythm, the gentle swell of unseen violins, “I’ve heard a lot about magic, and what magic can do in this place,” she said. Together they came up with a simple meditation on the beauty of magic – and the difficulties of it, in b-flat.

“I have missed the music of this place,” Sheila confessed, as they headed inside.

In the far distance there was a scream from the ale tent as Ash complained at great violent length about the music suddenly assaulting his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

The door is sealed tight behind them before Isabella turns to her cousin. “Spill everything,” she demands.

“Mayhap some tea first?” Sheila smiled. “My throat is a dustball from the long ride.”

“Pah! Forget the tea, give me the dirt.”

“Well.” Sheila reached for the waistcloth tied to her belt. “I suppose it isn’t the easiest story to speak of. There were demons, and fools…and something occurred that no lady must speak of in polite company.”

“Have I ever been polite?” Isbaella asked.

“You’re still…a bit too polite for this tale,” Sheila declared. 

“Ohh,” Isabella said. “So it’s sexy then.”

“It’s not sexy!” Sheila said. “Well…most of it’s not.”

“Oh my LORD,” Isabella said. “Who did you? With…with who? Did Arthur finally…”

“No, not Arthur,” Sheila said. “This dynasty’s had enough incest, thank you.” She fluffs out her skirt, smiles. “It’s…the man with the scars you met earlier.”

“Him!” Isabella gawks. “He seems so…violent.”

“Not on the rug.”

“It can be done outside of a bed?!” Isabella gapes at her cousin’s puckishness. 

“My God what do they teach you in Valencia?” 

Isabella frowned. “Well, the basics I suppose.”

“Whatever it is,” said Sheila, “it doesn’t compare to the real thing.” She sighed. “ But he’s going to be leaving soon.”

*** 

“What do you mean ‘it’s not the real thing’?”

The king gestured blandly to the cider Ash had been poured. “Our last attempt at wine died on the vine,” he explained. “This was the best we could do.”

Ash shrugged. “Fine, I’ll feel like a sorority chick on a bender, but whatever.” He poured himself a cup and settled down beside Arthur. The cider hit his sweet spot, and Ash leaned back with a heavy sigh. “So what do you guys do around this dirt farm for kicks? And please don’t say singing. The king don’t sing.”

“Make merry and til the fields,” said the King of Valencia quite expansively. “And marry our cousins, but as is the local tradition.”

The corner of Ash’s mouth ticked upward. “Uh…did you just say that? Am I hearing that?”

No one bothered to answer him, and he filled his mouth lest they ask him to sing.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, this is how you live.” Ash stares at the giant grain mill as if he had been presented with a dog turd. “You know, back in my time…”

“Please,” Arthur said through his teeth,” don’t tell us more about your time. We simply couldn’t bear to learn anymore about your…”

“…we have big machines that grind this stuff up. Now I know you primitives can’t imagine what it’s like to see big, huge machines grinding up wheat into a bunch of paste…”

“…We can. What do you think that wheel is doing?” Arthur asked.

“…But in my time you press a button and bam! Two hours later! Bread!” The crowd murmured at Ash’s declaration. “Tho I’m more of a donut man myself. Now, let me tell you how they make roast beef in my day..”

The King of Valencia elbowed Arthur in the side. “Would you please shut that man up before he panics the crowd?”

‘I’ve tried. It only makes him louder.”

“Sweet heavens. Do you suppose all men from the future are like him?”

“No. I understand men from his time actually sing and dance, unlike this one.”

“What a pity,” said the king. “Shall we hie to the baths for a jolly round of sink the log?”

“Where you lead, cuz, I will follow,” said Arthur, and they headed off to the bath as Ash gathered a group of children about them, his lecturing tone spreading across the courtyard and to the eves above.

Sheila could hear him yelling and rolled her eyes as Isabella plucked away at her eyebrows. “That man will be the death of us all.”

“The only thing that needs to die tonight are the strays between you eyebrows,” said Isabella, who kept plucking away at Sheila’s face. “What do you do in the north?”

“We did have an artist there,” said Sheila, “But they died of lead poisoning like the last five.”

“We lose more proccurists that way,” said Isabella. “Now hold still, we must blast down these splits ends,” she said, and brought forth a lit candle to help with the job.

Four hours later, Sheila emerged with flatter hair and a small smirk. She looked a bit like a princess, Isabella thought –or an off-off-off-kingdom actress. Sheila adjusted her top and sashayed over to the window.

“Is he down there?” she asked, posing in a way that she hoped made her look alluring. 

Isabella glanced down into the bailey and frowned. “They’re in the middle of the afternoon kickline. Maybe try again when they’re done?”

Sheila’s moan was heartrending. But she cheered up; it did after all give her more time to work on her hair…

*** 

“For god’s sake,” Ash complained, kicking his left and then his right leg in rhythm to the music, “how often do you yahoos dance around every day?”

“Oh, just until the noon bell passes,” said the King of Valencia, giving a marvelous set of jazzhands.


	4. Chapter 4

“Right,” Ash said flatly. “If you want me I’ll be…re-leaning my choreography or something. Over there.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder.

The men let Ash go and he slumped to the bench outside with a sigh. This was without a doubt the weirdest place he’d ever been in his life, and that included Kandarian hell. At least they didn’t have kicklines there. He mopped up his sweaty face and glanced up at the balcony overhanging his head.

And unsurprisingly, her head hanging over the edge of the rim of concrete, stood Sheila.

“Hi,” he said sarcastically.

“Hallo,” she said. There was bell-like, high-pitched giggling coming from beside her.

“You got something better to do than make fun of me?”

Sheila was being saucier than normal; she leaned over the balcony and met him eye to eye. “Shall I come down? I have something to show you!”

“If it’s your hair, it looks hot.”

The women burst into a cacophony of joyful discussion. Ash winced, rubbing his ear. 

“The king Isabella’s father has spoken about taking us to a joust tonight. I hope that ye will come,” Sheila said. “The most handsome knight in the realm is to appear. T’wouldn’t be something any of us wishes to miss.” 

With that, both women disappeared into the building, leaving Ash to gape in outrage up at them.

 

*** 

“Doest thou think he got it? The ‘hint’?” Sheila asked.

“Definitely,” Isabella said, and the cousins scurried off to dinner.


End file.
